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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381163">of the sand and sea</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulyB96/pseuds/JulyB96'>JulyB96</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Percy Jackson and the Olympians &amp; Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, mature rating for suggestive scenes not graphic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:42:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,071</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381163</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulyB96/pseuds/JulyB96</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sally Jackson was a queen—there hadn't been a woman like her in a thousand years. She is not easily forgotten. </p><p>And when Poseidon returns, there is another at his heels.<br/>.</p><p>au takes place during percy's disappearance (or rather, because of percy's disappearance)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amphitrite/Sally Jackson/Poseidon (Percy Jackson)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>194</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>of the sand and sea</em>
</p><p>
  <em>you and me,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>us, we three</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a knock at the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Percy had been gone for two months and fifteen days. The apartment was empty, blue—Manhattan a frigid tundra of whirling, biting wind. She needed groceries, she didn’t want to go out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a knock at the door</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rose from bed, body aching, and caught herself in the mirror. Fussed hair, dead eyes, ragged pajamas—polka dots. She didn’t care. Poseidon hadn’t shown in a few days. The small, shriveled ounce of hope left to her thought it might mean good news.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a knock at the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally shuffled down the hall, rubbing at her eyes, mind absent, wondering. She didn’t check the peephole. She was going to shove half a box of cereal down her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She opened the door—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A gorgeous woman with violent, auburn hair stood in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—and slammed it just as fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand that shot out to press against the wood kept it from closing. She scrambled to shut it, feet sliding against the hardwood, but despite her effort, the woman on the other side was strong. Inhumanly strong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She dashed off, back through the apartment, feeling like a four-year-old but unable to stop. The comforter hid her well as she slid back into bed and huddled and listened. A door slammed, heels clicked deafeningly loud in the quiet space. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blanket was ripped away by the bottom. She sat up, her mouth a desert. The woman—in power pose—smiled at her. Standing tall, in a dark green suit, with a red lip and penetrating eyes, she washed away any scrap of bravery that could be mustered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sally Jackson,” Amphitrite’s smile disappeared. “Get dressed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally was a writer. In the near seventeen years since meeting a Greek god she did, in fact, happen to do her research. The common denominator was clear enough—the mother never prospered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And infidelity, well, that seemed to be a minor part in the very fucked-up grand scheme of making a hero.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t an idiot. She knew the rules. The consequences. Her fate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only problem: while sitting across from her lover’s wife in a corner diner in the middle of Manhattan at nine in the morning, none of those things seemed to matter. Nothing seemed to matter, according to Amphitrite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The waitress placed the breakfast special in front of her and, as Sally had been doing the whole time, she watched Amphitrite’s gaze rove across the room, over the busy counters, the greasy aprons, the loud patrons. She grimaced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is your favorite place to eat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally tried to dispel her stupor with a shake of the head, “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite released a groan and waved her hand in submission, gestured to the plate on the table. “Well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally had lost her appetite a long while ago, “Are you sure you don’t want something?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no desire to nor will I ever eat mortal food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. . .” she said and bit into a piece of toast. She chewed slowly, let the silence carry, let shouts and bustling fill the space. A pause grew between them. Then, in a panicked voice, “Are you going to kill me? Is this some evil last meal, fattening the pig before the slaughter type of trick? Because I won't have it, I can jump in front of a bus myself.” When she didn’t respond, “Well, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite shrugged her shoulders, amused, “Maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Burning anger roiled in her belly, the defensive type she had been swallowing down for the past hour, “Maybe? Well, what other reason do you have? Are you going to play with me like a cat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only if you want to,” she said, voice smooth, unwavering. Sally’s fork clattered to the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stupefied. Again. “I, um, I beg your pardo—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one has ever bagged my husband twice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s not a competition—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And when I sensed you on him again,” Amphitrite pinned her to the shitty diner cushion with gaze alone. “I had to see what all the fuss was about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally’s voice squeaked, “Like meet me and leave? A meet and greet? Meet or greet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The goddess leaned on the table, pushing into her personal space, auburn waves cascading over her shoulder, framing a pretty face, a heavenly face, a painstakingly beautiful face. Amphitrite smiled as if reading her thoughts, “Not even close.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>moving this over from tumblr. started as an exercise to get rid of writing block and now look at where we are. obsessed with the three of them. promoting the estelle isn't a blofis she's a jackson agenda</p><p>kudos and comments highly appreciated</p><p>thank you for reading xx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Amphitrite came and went, much like a cat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They did small things together, regular things. Human things. She seemed to hate all of them. Sally couldn’t help but wonder if it was the things Amphitrite hated or her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hated that that’s what she thought of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t her place to be presumptuous—you’d think committing adultery would humble a person—but Amphitrite rarely made things clear, and there were only so many times you could be courted by a god before picking up their signals. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it wasn’t the hand-holding, it was her absent-minded staring. If not the patience for human necessities, it was the presents. So many presents. All of which she kept giving back, which made Amphitrite a particularly specific type of irritated angry. One day, she was dragged to a high-end store and made to wear dress after dress. Amphitrite stood behind her, smoothed the skin-tight fabric over her hips, and watched her in the mirror’s reflection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had thought then—</span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the mirror, in her eyes, there had been something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But nothing came. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there was the simple matter of Amphitrite’s hatred for everything else. Well, not hate. Dislike. Strong resentment. All it took was one call on the phone and a narrow, sidewards glance in her direction to think that, yes, her death was being planned at that very moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that she tried to find out. Poseidon still hadn’t shown and her worry had set in days ago. She’d told Percy a thousand times growing up, you don’t poke the bear. You never poke the bear. Why pry into the secretive habits of her lover’s wife?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A question for the Ancient Greek philosophers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite it all, answers were received.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose this is it,” Amphitrite said one Friday night. They were outside her apartment building, returning from dinner. Well, she had dinner. Amphitrite watched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is?” she asked. “My apartment?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite had her arms crossed, body encased in a sleek black coat. It was snowing, light flurries. Snowflakes caught themselves in fly-away strands of hair and gathered there as if the water refused to melt on her. She rolled her eyes, “No, this is it for me. I’m leaving, for good. This doesn’t work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally blinked, chest filling in anticipation. “What doesn’t work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and I. We’re not compatible. It’s gone nowhere. Pity. Don’t tell him I’ve been around and I won’t smite you, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally grabbed her arm before she could go; the first touch she initiated herself. Amphitrite started at it, then her. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> it,” Sally said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t it obvious?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! You sit around and stare at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But we hang out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Half of what you say is rude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s not about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>buy</span>
  </em>
  <span> you things,” Amphitrite gestured in front of her like it explained everything. Sally huffed and pulled her in closer. The goddess was taken aback, stuck between leaning away and wanting to stand her ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you like me?” Sally asked, keeping her gaze. “Truly like me? Independently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite hesitated, “I have curiosities.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took everything in her to keep a neutral face. “Good enough for me. Come on upstairs. We’re going to have a real date. One that involves talking, preferably about personal things.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without much fuss, Amphitrite conceded. “I’m not telling you personal things,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any pets?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A sea monster I domesticated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s personal!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the moment her hand closed on the brass knob, something was different. Like glass had shattered. Solid, but gentle. She made tea, out of habit, but set a second cup on the counter. Amphitrite’s roll of the eye was nowhere near as harsh as the dozen that had come before it—she walked from the kitchen, mug untouched, but stayed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fell into her couch and stayed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d think being trapped in a small Manhattan apartment with your godly lover’s godly wife would stop you from smiling, but Sally did it anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They talked. She made them talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Questions about the week, work, the weather, the world, her favorite color—it was green. Sally laughed. “Of course it’s green.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite shrugged, “It looks good everywhere, on everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s his favorite color, too,” she said and the goddess narrowed her eyes, smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, when you’re stuck together for more than a millennia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally talked about her life, about her family, the same stories she’d given to Poseidon, all over again. It wasn’t all that grand, she didn’t need the head tilt of empathy Amphitrite gave, she shouldn’t have even gone that deep in the first place—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>but she wanted Amphitrite to trust her, even though she was boarded up like a ten-level prison. Seriously. Any moment. There could be a trident at her neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hot air was blasting from the heater at the end of the hall, invading the space, warming her from head to toe. It was well past midnight and the television was thrumming in the background, volume low, celebrities forgotten. Outside it was blue, dark, frigid. Inside was soft and red—auburn red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally was stretched across the couch, her head in the lap of a sea goddess. Don’t ask her how it happened; she couldn’t answer, sleep ate at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite carded gentle fingers through her hair, absentmindedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“. . .so you taste mint, but you aren’t actually eating mint,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Sally hummed, “There’s no way you don’t know what ice cream is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what it is, I just don’t know why humans bother. You can eat mint leaves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure mint leaves taste good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, peppermint candy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>ice cream</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do not need multiple variations of the same food,” she declared and Sally laughed. A sleepy silence swept over them and for a moment, she was gone, then the next, there came a caress of the cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A fingertip, tracing her nose, jaw, eyebrow, her lips—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite was quiet, reserved. “I’m not around humans much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Out of choice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ . . .Where did you go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was right here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“While you slept.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t remember. I don’t think I went anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Humans always go somewhere when they sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not always. . .don’t you sleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s different. Your body is but a vessel. When you sleep, you leave. . .you dream. When we sleep, we stay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh the dream man whisks us away against our free will?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Amphitrite laughed. “A funny thing to call him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Percy called him that once. . .should you be telling a human this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A long, long pause. “No. I’ve gotten in trouble for it before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Risking it all for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just trying to scare you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally turned her head skyward and opened her eyes. Amphitrite’s face hovered above hers; her body shimmered, like a pearl. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Trying to scare me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Can I scare her?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to go on a date next week?” Sally asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sea queen rolled her eyes, but blushed oyster pink. “Alright.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for reading xx</p><p>comments and kudos highly appreciated</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>8:03 A.M. — The numbers on her clock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally shuffled down the hall, leaving the cozy confines of her bedroom, ready to leave for work but not wanting to go. Office work was a step up labor-wise, but she hadn’t yet to find the stagnancy appealing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinked the sleep from her eyes and tugged her coat ever closer, only to get cut off in the walkway between the front door and the main room by a man, tall and tan, clothed in a mixture of business and athleisure, who materialized out of thin air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her purse dropped to the floor with a dull thud as they embraced in a flurry of smiles and laughter. The fresh scent of the sea still clung to him; she breathed it in ravenously. “Poseidon,” she started but he kissed her—small little kisses—until she had to pull back for air. “Where have you been?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he said, voice vibrating through her chest. She closed her eyes, let his warmth seep into her. Work had officially upgraded from an annoyance to a thorn in her side. “Olympus has been rather, well, it’s hard to explain. I’ve wanted to return ever since I left—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The god in her arms turned rigid as stone, the hands he had at the small of her back curved around her hips, encasing her. Sally leaned back to find a sickened face and eyes that looked right over her, towards the empty front room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, they froze together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he melted to anger, a quiet rage, fueled by fear—like a boiling pot overflowing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poseidon side-stepped her and strode into the front room. She followed, lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Poseidon—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned and now, in a better light, she could see how the green of his iris’ swirled wildly. “Sally,” he gestured around. “Has anyone been here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, “I don’t understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here in this apartment,” it was then he started to touch things, run his hand over side tables and trinkets, between the bookshelf and the wall, pausing for a very long moment to stare at the couch. “Anyone random, out of the ordinary, a new friend at work—” he huffed, almost panicked, and went down the only other hall, but not before pulling her along. “Stay near me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He checked her bedroom, her closet, her mirror, underneath her bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never found any monsters under there,” she said from the doorway, almost teasingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was not amused. “I’m being serious,” he breezed passed her, entered the bathroom, checked the faucets, checked the walls. Then finally, when at last he could not find his answer, let out a pained groan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I in trouble?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poseidon glanced around once more, at her poor little off-white bathroom, and shook his head from indecision. He slipped his hand into hers and led her back towards the front room, “I don’t know. Sally, someone very dangerous has been here and when I say someone—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both stopped short at the sight of Amphitrite across the room, seated in an armchair. “Dangerous?” She smiled. “Haven’t heard that compliment in a few decades.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poseidon gravitated in front of Sally before she could stop him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite crossed her arms, “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want to do this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do what?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span>—do you take me for a fool?” Poseidon’s voice crescendoed in the small space and the windows shook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shhh!</span>
  </em>
  <span> I have neighbors,” Sally whispered. He glanced back towards her, face heavy and full of misery. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sally,” he said, voice grave. “She is here to kill you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m here for our date,” Amphitrite said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The space around them slunk into awkward tension faster than Sally wanted to admit. First, Poseidon stared, at his wife, who had a sly, arrogant little smile that only added truth to her statement. Then he turned to Sally, who could do nothing but give an embarrassed shake of the head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, “What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you doing?” Poseidon yelled and pointed an accusatory finger at Amphitrite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Poseidon</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Sally hissed. He turned to her, frantic and wild.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sally, she has thrown women to the sea, she has drowned them with her bare hands. She gave a woman to a group of orcas to </span>
  <em>
    <span>play with like a seal.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite snorted suddenly and started to laugh, “I forgot I did that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pushing aside her horror, Sally shrugged, “She hasn’t done anything bad to me yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She has—yet?” he placed his hands on his hips. “How long has she been around?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About three weeks,” Sally said. When Poseidon went wide-eyed, clenched his jaw and looked, for lack of a better word, miffed, she jumped in place and threw her hands up. “What was I supposed to do? Rebuke my godly lover’s wife? My godly lover who is cheating on his wife. My Greek godly lover, the ones who have very bad track records with this sort of thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s really just Hera,” Amphitrite said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cheating,” Poseidon mocked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my gods!” Sally exclaimed. “You don’t even feel bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t feel bad the first time,” he said. Sally let out a cry and felt the heavy heat of shame rise in her face. “Oh, as if she hasn’t done the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what pool boys are for,” Amphitrite shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pool boys, lifeguards, environmentalists, marine biologists, Olympic swimmers—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Writers,” she said, eyes grazing up and down Sally’s frame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Poseidon asked, then, “No! This ends right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely not. Sally and I have a date tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With sudden composure, he said, “I was going to take her out tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite gripped the arms of the chair, “I’m not leaving.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The front room was cozy, filled with love, and held a couch and two sitting chairs, with nothing but a small table between them. Poseidon took the other chair, silently, slowly, and together they stared at the other, “Well neither am I.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally stood between them, rubbed at her temples. “I am going to work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them broke the stare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This charade better be over by the time I come home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing still. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At lunch, Jared asked if she had weekend plans. She mumbled something about orcas and his face crumpled in confusion. Good. She hated Jared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>City sounds muffled by the glass filtered into the empty space and spun around the gods, thoroughly ignored. A dog barked from the hall. Neither blinked. Two blocks away, a robbery had commenced. Neither breathed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You already asked me that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t a joke.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m aware.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She has lost her </span>
  <em>
    <span>son.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I hope every day for his safe return.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence. “Do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not heartless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re not heartless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why question me to begin with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sounds kept flowing and the gods kept staring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally stood silent between the gods, who sat unmoving, the exact same way she had left them. Winter’s golden glow slanted into the apartment, though not far enough to reach her from where she stood amongst the shadows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something told her they were fighting, but she was tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And hungry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to get ready,” she said. “When I’m done, the staring contest better be over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once in her bedroom, she dropped her things and fell back against the door, because yes two gods were having a lover’s spat in her living room but they were still </span>
  <em>
    <span>waiting</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go on a </span>
  <em>
    <span>date </span>
  </em>
  <span>with </span>
  <em>
    <span>her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Butterflies did not fit into this scenario. Guppies—there were guppies causing a ruckus in her stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had had a dress picked out; velvet, form-fitting, and green. She wasn’t that old, </span>
  <em>
    <span>it could still work</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she had repeatedly been telling herself for days. There were several actresses her age who wore dresses just as risque. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she stood at the mirror’s base, playing with the garment’s edge, fixing the slip around her shoulders, a fresh blush crept up her neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time, in a very long while, she felt a sudden overwhelming amount of happiness. And though guilt bubbled up, she swallowed it. She missed happy. She wanted to seep into happy, completely, just this once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heels against the floor signaled the gods, who flashed into new clothes and stood as she entered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally’s gaze flitted back and forth as they stared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poseidon broke first and embraced her. “You are so radiant. . .there are no words.” They kissed, quick and practiced, but she felt his thumb caress her cheek and she took his hand as they parted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite was staring, jaw hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally’s stomach flipped. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was she fooling herself? Would this work? What even was </span>
  </em>
  <span>this</span>
  <em>
    <span>? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Amphitrite’s gaze melted all too quickly to be reassuring. She shrugged on a coat that materialized from thin air, encasing the auburn locks so her hair bobbed around her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agern,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The NoMad,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gabriel Kreuther.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grill and Pool.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And run into Hermes and his date of the week?” she asked. Poseidon lifted his hands out as if to say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>well?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bernadin,” he tried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Madison.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Del Posto.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite pondered. “Del Posto.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally grabbed her jacket mid-walk, only to pause in the small hall between them and the door. She turned. “I live in this city, you know? </span>
  <em>
    <span>All</span>
  </em>
  <span> of those places are high end.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poseidon took her by the small of her back and opened the door, “And we’re torturing you enough, so let this be our way of repayment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Downstairs, a car and a driver waited.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“The place is in Chelsea,” Poseidon said. Amphitrite stood at his side with a smug smile, the one from before, only smaller, because it was luxury Sally couldn’t give back. Now it was time for her to clench her jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Sally stared at them, at the two, stunningly gorgeous immortal gods with powers unbeknownst to any human imagination and then to the driver, who had a gold trident pinned to his lapel. She smiled, “Your name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Andrew, miss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sitting in the front, Andrew.” And then she did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when the rest had closed their doors and Andrew revved the car, he looked over at her. There was a closed partition behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Percy’s mom?” He whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gave a small nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I absolutely love you,” he mouthed.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>kudos and comments highly appreciated</p><p>thank you for reading xx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Reservation for Jackson.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The restaurant was cavernous, two levels and a grand staircase, but still warm and welcoming. Candles burned at white-clothed tables. Light-hearted conversation filtered through the air. Low-lighting made everything overtly intimate. Amphitrite’s hand in hers was her focal point as they were led to their table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally smiled behind her menu. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They used her name. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Albeit—the Mist is what got the table. Still, it was the little things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sally?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” she looked up to find green eyes on her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was work?” Poseidon asked. She tilted her head and arched a brow. He smiled, “You know I care about the </span>
  <em>
    <span>mundane human activities</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as you refer to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was just fine,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Jared?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, still a dick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jared?” Amphitrite asked. Sally leaned forward, dropping her voice even though the chance of eavesdroppers was nonexistent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This annoying coworker I have. He’s technically a little higher up than most of us in the department, but we still all work in the same cubicles and eat our bag lunches, so there’s no reason for him to be as arrogant as he is. Also, he’s completely sexist. He hides it, but you can tell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite hummed in reply and set her eyes downcast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t smite him,” Poseidon followed without pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never without her permission.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You say that so casually,” Sally said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s trigger happy,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re one to talk, </span>
  <em>
    <span>earthshaker.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The conversation went on from there. Only when the waiter came for their orders did there come a stumble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, she doesn’t eat,” Poseidon said when the man had asked what Amphitrite would be having, then he glanced sideways to Sally. “She never eats. Refuses to, really. Thinks human food is below her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The waiter paled and Sally wondered, idly, what he was actually hearing. She smiled sympathetically. Again, the two gods played their staring game but in the end, Amphitrite ordered the salmon and wine. Expensive wine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a dent that’s going to make to our wallet,” he said nonchalantly, but Sally watched how his eyes lingered on her. As if in shock. As if this was unheard of, something Amphitrite would only do once in a thousand years. For a special reason. . . or someone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally didn’t want to be presumptuous, she couldn’t possibly be the one thing that broke a goddess’ eternal fast, so she took a deep breath and kept talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They laughed and joked and drank as the restaurant rose and fell in busy bouts around them. It felt natural in a way Sally hadn’t often experienced before. Sure, human connection was possible, but growing up without both parents always left the feeling of </span>
  <em>
    <span>otherness.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>With them, otherness was somewhat a prerequisite of belonging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was enthralled—couldn’t get enough of them. They seemed to glow the happier they got, a soft, golden shine that drew your eye to them. And the way their iris’ twinkled, the colors twirling, never quite staying still. The stories they told as if she had been there to witness—thank goodness she had brushed up on mythology or she’d be lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It all felt strangely familiar as if there had never been before, only now, and this is what was since the start. A wonderful thing to feel. No wonder she lov—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally pulled back. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not that far</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>not again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>When the main courses were served, Amphitrite stared at her plate. Even the fork looked foreign in her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to eat it,” Sally said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I ordered it,” she insisted, though grimaced as the food hit her mouth. A grimace that turned to confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poseidon laughed behind his palm, which made Sally lift her own to hide a humored smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not. . .the worst thing in this world,” Amphitrite said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the longer they ate, the more her fork found their plates as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had come to a decision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wine was a dangerous, dangerous drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not because it muddled her senses—they were fine. Not because of loose lips—she kept biting her tongue. But because it made her stare—and for that, she would never forgive it. Together they conversed, caught up in a private matter as she had fallen silent. He tan, broad, raven curls. She lithe, sharp, red. Poseidon had his cuffs rolled up. Amphitrite, the fabric of her neckline, plunged deep down. They smiled back and forth amid small quips, unaware of the madness they drove her towards. The two gods, finally at ease, looking every bit a couple, were radiant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiant. He had called her radiant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poseidon took Sally’s hand across the table as if sensing himself in her thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” she sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope we did not cause you too much stress.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, this was perfect,” a pulse passed between their palms. “It was perfect.” She glanced towards Amphitrite and found the same hard stare pinpointed at their hands. Her heart dropped down the staircase in the middle of the room, porcelain against marble, each </span>
  <em>
    <span>clink clink clink</span>
  </em>
  <span> echoing in her eardrums. She blinked away the brilliance, “I need some air.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite snapped out of it, “Come, I’ll go with you.” She gestured with her head towards the waiter approaching, which Poseidon caught and nodded in reply, a practiced set that reminded her quite vividly that they were husband and wife.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The goddess’ hand in hers was firm as they left, but it was simple to guide a doe if it was fool enough to believe you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The frigid air tickled at her skin and she shivered, thoughts sinking into mindless chatter to hide from the cold, shocked when a coat found its way over her shoulders. Not her coat, not a new coat, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Amphitrite’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> coat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My coat,” Sally said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, he will bring it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally drew the fabric closer, running her fingers down its edges. It felt sleek, luxurious—something that was clearly not her own. She spoke suddenly, with fervor, “Will this work? I mean, are you actually okay with this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite tilted her head, “Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw you staring, earlier and just now. You look so, so angry when he touches me. There’s this burning in your eyes and it—do you hate me?” Sally bit her lip, not yet upset, simply filled with a vibrant adrenaline that kept her heeled feet numb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite slipped her hands inside the coat, around Sally’s waist, pulling them closer together. Her expression was gentle, almost embarrassed. The red of her hair glowed orange against the golden lights outside. “I do not hate you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally let out a sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I see you two, you have to understand, that was not hatred,” she lifted a hand to Sally’s cheek and slowly, traced the bottom lip with her thumb. “That was, I am—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get on with the show, honey,” a gruff voice split through the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the end of the carpeted sidewalk, leaning against the pole of a decorative streetlight, stood a man with a cigarette in hand. He was clearly drunk. Rich, noisy, Wall Street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite fumed, a rushed breath escaping through her nose, and Sally slipped a hand around her wrist to distract her, possibly stop her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as life had proven before, timing was a bitch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poseidon joined them, walking much too confidently, stopping much too close, slipping a hand at the small of her back much too quickly to confuse the three of them for anything other than what they were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man laughed, “Oh shit, cheers to you, buddy. Living the dream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He understood fully the situation as she slipped her other hand along the collar of his coat. Sally felt very much like the owner of two Dobermans lying in wait for their prey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s one stupid human,” she tried nonchalantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One too many,” Amphitrite countered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I meet douchebags every day and I never kill any of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who said anything about kill?” Poseidon asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How sinister,” Amphitrite said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vindictive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Downright evil.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally made a point of looking unamused. Amphitrite pulled her away suddenly, farther from the man, and her nerves uncoiled only to spike again when she noticed Poseidon didn’t follow. Too soon did the goddess whisk her ‘round the corner, slipping into the shadows, away from roaming eyes, where she could not meekly protest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For truly, it was deserved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over the centuries, sparse were the tales of sightings of the sea god, because most often, any sailor to witness him seldom survived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But a small handful knew his real face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stepped closer to the human, silent despite the man’s conversation. And with each step, he seemed larger, stronger, more menacing, watching as the conversing died away to nothingness. The man tried for humor, only to lose all nerve and wait as the tense moment inched by, nothing but inches between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could sense the fear of ten men all packed into one. It would satisfy her to keep it alive and so he retreated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And in that retreat, the man threw out an insult.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next moment, the human fell to its knees, pulling strings of seaweed straight from its mouth, choking up half the sea with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One more body fell into the pile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ran halfway down the block before stopping short.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m used to tennis shoes,” Sally said and went to ramble until she caught Amphitrite’s gaze, who looked at her with bright eyes. Truly bright, </span>
  <em>
    <span>glowing</span>
  </em>
  <span> bright. Looking mesmerized and completely unaware, as if they hadn’t been interrupted. As if her husband wasn’t torturing a random human. “What is it—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite took Sally’s face like she had before and kissed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An urgent kiss that had her spinning. A quick kiss that turned into kisses. She gripped at the goddess’ blouse for dear life and hoped she wasn’t ruining it. It was a first kiss, one with meaning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when they pulled apart, Amphitrite appeared sated. “Jealous,” she said. “That was jealousy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m right here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t ask gods to explain themselves,” Amphitrite said and their laughter intermingled. “You two are so familiar with one another—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>hope </span>
  </em>
  <span>so—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—and I want to be familiar with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought we already were.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The goddess tilted her head as if to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>but not like that</span>
  </em>
  <span> or </span>
  <em>
    <span>not enough</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Even further, though, Sally realized between the explaining and admittance and pure intention there lay wanting. Desire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air was finally clear, it felt, at least, to her. All worries gone, confusion dispersed. She held a secretive smile, one that had Amphitrite opening her mouth, only to be stopped as Sally brought their lips together again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A bit more forceful this time, enough for them to stumble, closer to the wall, where the cool stone held her steady. The kisses came smooth, like a river, one blending into the next, no end in sight. Hands traced her bodice, free from pretense, eager to please. She welcomed it, returned it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The breakaway was instantaneous as a presence arrived, too close to be unaware of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poseidon stood a few paces back, both shocked and reserved, somehow. Somehow. In his eyes. It always came back to the eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite pulled away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally was left alone, silent against the wall. She watched them play their staring game, but this one held no anger. They stood awkwardly, if a god could do that at all, looking scared, stressed. As if a debate was taking place, discussing the responsibilities and consequences of godly affairs. The nerve-wracking prospect of mingling with mortal beings. The natural way of gods and the livelihoods that were affected because of that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was exactly what was happening, she realized. Sally could not muster the reason as to </span>
  <em>
    <span>why now,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but she knew she was hurtling close to the possibility of losing one of them. Or both.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m cold,” her voice pierced through the tension and snapped them back to reality. Her reality. Poseidon glanced towards her and extended his arm out. The coat hung there, an offering. She pushed off the wall, listened to the echoing click of her heels as she walked toward him, and took it from his palm. Then, without pause, before another beat of silence could pass, she placed herself against his instep, crowded close enough to fall off balance, and kissed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A kiss practiced and well-versed, gentle in her palms as they held his jaw, sure in his hands as they kept her steady. A kiss traveling down a path she had been many times before. She halted it a moment too soon, and turned without pulling away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite caught her eye and joined them, looking almost mesmerized. That couldn’t be though, she couldn’t mesmerize a </span>
  <em>
    <span>goddess.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But she had mesmerized a god. Many times. Even now. So why not?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally blushed harsh between them, cradled by their presence, bracketed by their arms, borrowed coat heavy on her shoulders. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Borrowed coat</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She ducked her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Warm now?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” she said. The pair laughed and that laughter encircled her and she fell to ease. Whatever the moment could have been was gone. They stayed. They were hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where to now?” Amphitrite asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m tired.” Her lie lingered amongst them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” he shrugged, “To bed then I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally cleared her throat and nodded, “That would probably be best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite gave a long, languid hum, “Oh, you two are ridiculous,” then pulled Poseidon by his lapel right over her shoulder. The sight of them kissing burned into her corneas as the earth gave way beneath her and they dispersed into a flurry of sea mist.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>absolutely was not expecting this type of reaction. i'm so ecstatic you all enjoy this fic. thank you for reading xx</p><p>kudos and comments highly appreciated</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sally would try her hardest to recall the next few hours, to write it out old-fashioned, just pen and paper, in a journal she could tuck away, so no one but her might relive it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worn floorboards creaked as they materialized, weight settling. She wobbled, drew Poseidon closer for leverage, only to slip into another kiss. And another. And another, until she was confident enough to let go. The hands at her waist—Amphitrite’s—ushered them backward and by the time they breached the bedroom the world had melted away to practically nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were sheets beneath her and a god behind her and a goddess in her lap, who had dark, raven tresses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she couldn’t help the surprise in her voice, sudden enough to bring pause. Amphitrite followed the direction of her pointed hand, down towards her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” the goddess mimicked and blushed a deep turquoise. “I didn’t realize. The red hair, humans are more privy to it. This usually isn’t. . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We all get distracted,” his voice was low behind her, humored. She slipped her fingers through the locks, their silkiness mimicking a river as followed them to the tips. Amphitrite held her gaze with care, patience.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love it,” she said and the air shifted, vibrated. They drew closer, if that was possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Amphitrite asked and took her face in hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” she said. Lips, ever soft, brushed against her shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do,” again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Sally smiled and let them kiss her. Again and again, sinking blissfully into their embrace as night made passage across the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Morning grey filtered through the curtains, illuminating the room in a gentle light. A distant shuffling registered through the haze of sleep, but she ignored it, content to linger in the warm arms that held her. She stretched and pushed back against them, ravenous for touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t do that,” he said and kissed the curve of her neck. She smiled, turned slightly to see him in full, placed a hand against his jaw and drew him into a kiss. “Good morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning. . .” she drifted as words lost her. His eyes were brilliant this morning, emerald green. Stubble setting in. Eyes creased at the edges. And he was looking right at her. “I’m so happy you’re here. . . that you’re both here.” He squinted in disbelief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Truly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rose on one elbow, as if to get a better look at her, “Sally Jackson, you never fail to surprise me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her brows knitted, “I can’t imagine this is shocking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not shocking. Unexpected. Even gods can be caught off guard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She traced his lip with her thumb, “Never thought myself so compelling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kissed her again, “You</span>
  <em>
    <span> absolutely </span>
  </em>
  <span>have.” Their laughter was cut short by Amphitrite’s entrance—quick, sure, and still nude, she slipped back into bed. Her head pressed to Sally’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tried to make coffee and it didn’t work,” she said. “I snapped it into existence. It’s waiting for you in the kitchen.” Sally intertwined their hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. That was sweet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite hummed, “Doesn’t it have to cool down or whatever?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Generally.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how long does that take?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are easier ways to say you want to fuck,” Poseidon said. Amphitrite swatted at his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally failed horrendously at hiding her smile and instead leaned into it, pulling Amphitrite into a kiss that was much to teeth. The bed dipped and settled as Amphitrite set herself atop her. The goddess glanced to the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m exhausted,” Poseidon said. “Maybe I’ll watch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Freak,” Amphitrite said, then to her, “He’s a freak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured that out the first time,” she said and Amphitrite pursed her lips, then paused. The next moment she was shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, what did he do the first time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am a gentleman—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s just say I will never—” his hand clamped over her mouth and she screamed in mock-horror, pulling it off. “I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> go to an aquarium with him </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Amphitrite fell to the side laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fish made me upset, Aphrodite was lurking </span>
  <em>
    <span>I swear</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he stuffed his face in the bedding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you say, sailor,” she said, voice shifting into a comforting melody she could never quite control. “Maybe Amphitrite will have a chance to slip up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have an iron will,” Amphitrite said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lies,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the apartment buzzer rang. They all stopped. Sally scrunched her brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Visitors?” Amphirite asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all,” she shook her head, blinking through the confusion. Names, plans, people all sifted through her head. For a moment, she sat in fog then the world caught up to her blindingly fast. “Annabeth!” She bolted from the bed, scrambled for a robe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Annabeth?” the gods chorused. Sally stopped and took in their empty expressions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Annabeth,” she said again, hoping they had misheard her. When the result was the same, her hands met her hips. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Annabeth,</span>
  </em>
  <span> one of your </span>
  <em>
    <span>heroes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ohhh,” they said together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Athena girl,” Poseidon muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Amphitrite said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then reality caught up with them, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Nooo</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” they chorused, shifting in panic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She can’t know we’re here,” Amphitrite said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’ll bombard us with questions,” Poseidon said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’ll whine for hours,” Amphitrite mumbled. An awkward pause followed. Poseidon sighed. Her mouth screwed tight with regret. “I am sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her son’s absence dropped like a weight over her once more. She hugged herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock came at the door. Then a high, clear voice that carried, “Mrs. Jackson, your neighbor recognized me! They let me up!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We will leave,” Poseidon said and met her eyes; they were sad. “Enjoy your—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head and tied the robe tight. “Stay here.” There was a moment where both gods sat in disbelief, ready to protest. Thinking perhaps of how their crude egos won over that of a young, mourning demigoddess. But they recovered and remained patient amongst the down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The main hall was cold beneath her feet, wood creaking with each step. Funny, she hadn’t heard a single one of Amphitrite’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She caught Annabeth in the middle of another knock and the girl froze, gentle fist at shoulder level. Her hair was barely contained by a worn out green beanie and a red flush tinted the tops of her cheeks. At the sight of her, the girl smiled, a beaming grin, but the zig-zag flutter of marble eyes gave indication that she hadn’t entirely let her guard down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bathrobe, the bedhead, the half-open door. Annabeth knew immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. . . .um, date night with Mr. Blofis?” the girl asked, slightly abashed. Sally wanted to smack her forehead against the doorframe. If anyone was embarrassed it should’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I’m sorry, we slept in,” she lied. Not entirely. Only a little, but also a lot. Gosh. Annabeth nodded, smile falling by a degree. For an achingly-long moment, she worried on how to send her away; she didn’t want to send her away. She waited eagerly for these visits, always stocked up on baking supplies the week before—but she had been forgetful lately. Too many distractions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter. Annabeth beat her to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can come back next weekend, Sally,” she said. When Sally’s brows dipped violently, her frown sharp, Annabeth shrugged good-naturedly. “Chiron has been whining about new pocket squares. I can get him some. Look at buildings. Self-care day and what-not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, sweetheart?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you deserve some relaxation,” Annabeth’s eyes were soft like snow. “And fun and privacy and stuff—” she backtracked. “You know, I mean, um—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally opened the door wider and gestured the girl into her arms. “Come here.” She wrapped her in a bear hug, placing her cheek against the beanie. A fresh sea-scent drifted off it; it must have been Percy’s. Annabeth melted into the embrace and Sally ran idle fingers through her curls, thinking of no way better to thank her than this little bit of love. They stood silent until the girl tensed back up and the hug came to its natural end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annabeth’s nose was all scrunched up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally swallowed a dry mouth. It wasn’t the beanie. The sea-scent had been from her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl looked down the hallway. To the left, then the right. With no results, she rubbed at her nose and rolled her shoulders. Sally’s stomach knotted in guilt and worry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annabeth smiled again, “Alright, see you later. Tell Mr. Blofis I said hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will, Annabeth. See you next week.” She watched the blonde curls bounce away until they disappeared down the stairs. Then she shut the door and let out a huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mention of Paul had her thoughts drifting. Back to the cold kitchen, the conversation. The gentle hands that she thought would be harsh, the sad eyes. The understanding. Honesty was such a simple thing until it hurt. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I think I’ll tell him to go. . .</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sally, I know you. You don’t want him to go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I know you. And we are, this is. . .</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In another life. Maybe this one, at another time. But not now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>. . . . . . I know.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally blinked back the tears, but the thoughts ate away at her all over again. Choices could be such a misery to live with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite appeared underneath the threshold of the small hall that led to the small front room. She was wearing an old, weathered t-shirt of hers. White Stripes. The goddess smiled hesitantly and the thoughts dispersed by the dozens. Summer-sun kissed at her skin, warmed her from head to toe. She sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything okay—what is it?” Amphitrite asked. Sally couldn’t answer. She closed the distance between them, hugged her blindly. Down the hall, she could see Poseidon, his frame overbearing in the doorway. She stifled a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So much was wrong, but they felt right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay,” she said. “I’m okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The coffee tasted of nutmeg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there anything you’d like to do?” They sat—rather, lounged—at her kitchen table. Quiet and sated and. . .comfortable. She sat back in her seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long do I have with you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long can you stomach us?” Poseidon asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pressed a grin to the rim of her mug, “Forever.” The word is a joke, a throw-away one-liner, but, in the moment, she doesn’t realize how literal her heart takes it. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>got really obsessed with my writing quality for a hot minute there. then i remembered that wasn't what this fic was about. i'm so grateful to everyone reading this. i'm glad it brings people joy. thank you xx</p><p>kudos and comments highly appreciated</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Who’s the better listener?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better at wrestling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Z.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s more creative?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Z.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Interior design?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you had to choose—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H. </span>
  <em>
    <span>H</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally doubled over in laughter. The wet stone scuffed underneath her boots and as she rose, the clear and sweet winter air of Central Park filled her lungs. It was a beautiful day. “You didn’t even let me finish!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have to,” Poseidon said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, “You’re too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m honest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amphitrite ran across The Mall, little red packages in hand. Sally took it from her open palm. Roasted nuts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Continuing your journey of human food?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps,” she said. The longer they walked the more sparse the path grew. Tourists had a tough time pushing through city winters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So do I get the story about that?” Sally asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The food?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poseidon laughed, “Now that’s an old story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But a quick one,” Amphitrite said. “Some mortals had burnt some offerings to me and left food at the base of an altar. The scent was heavenly but, and you need to understand, I was young.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Young for a goddess,” he slipped in. Context.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had only ever eaten the food of the gods but, it was so tempting. So after they left I took a bite of the offerings and it was rancid. One bite was so vile I could not stomach another! I promised myself to never go near it again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally thought, “What had they left?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fruits.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They went rancid that fast?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, they—” Amphitrite paused and gently, her brow creased. “Well, I had gotten distracted by a rather playful group of dolphins.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For a few hours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Days, maybe,” her voice was a soft murmur, eyes sad like a seal’s. “Oh no.” Sally wrapped an arm around her waist, but where she felt a twinge of empathy, Poseidon laughed. “Now don’t you make fun of me!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>days</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t realize,” she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All this time?” Sally asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t realize it either!” she said. “He’s the only other one I’ve ever told.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your perception of time is ridiculous,” Sally pressed her head to Amphitrite’s shoulder, their good nature warming her from the inside out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ours?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” they chorused.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Bethesda Terrace was vacant, spare a handful of people; the type that did not flinch at the wind’s bitter bite. Their conversation lulled into a pause as Amphitrite spotted another vendor up a path and scurried off. Sally took a deep breath and tried to observe her surroundings. It felt, always, as if they were in a bubble when they were together. An invisible film that encased them snug and refused to let go. In these brief moments of quiet did the world sink back in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes caught on a mother and son, sitting at the fountain’s edge. The boy was biting rabidly at a piece of candy and the woman was smiling in desperation as she tried to wrestle it away from him. And just like that, the stability she fought to build each moment of every day crumbled to dust beneath her and she was back in the dirt once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sally turned with a huff, but Poseidon followed her gaze a moment too soon. She was in his arms again, leaning in for support again, sagging like her strings were cut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s so painful, Poseidon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know.” And she knew he spoke the truth, could hear it in the flutter of his voice, the hand in her hair. She could remember it, the moment she realized he was in as much misery as her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Her hands were curled into tight fists on her lap. She was trying so hard not to cry. A few of the waitresses knew her by name and face; they would get worried. She asked to eat outside, it was freezing. Paul was worried, too. She hadn’t left the apartment in days. Her work would grow suspicious soon. He’d asked her out for fresh air but she left on her own. She couldn’t bear being around anyone, she could barely converse. Her food was getting cold. The world felt grey to her now, colorless. This was worse than anything she’d ever felt. His absence had numbed her head to toe. This reality was unbearably cruel. She was looking down towards a tunnel’s end that never came. She’s not sure she wanted to reach it, what evil fucking horror would she see then—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“May I have this seat?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She knew that voice.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Poseidon’s face mimicked hers right down to the eyes; empty and unseeing. And when he looked at her she knew, from the dead, flat color of his iris to the wrinkle lines around his eyes, he was the same as her. Hurt and in pain and utterly helpless.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A god helpless. A god, clueless. The misery that meant for them both.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She stood, chair falling back against the sidewalk behind her, and threw herself against him, cries coming unbridled to the surface.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He held her so well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I miss him,” her voice was thick. “Every moment I miss him and when I think of him, it feels like someone’s tearing my heart out of my chest. I can’t even say his name. I don’t. . .I can’t last much longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Sally,” he said. “I want to bring him back to you, but I can’t even sense him.” The pained frustration she’d heard from him often was there again, prominent. “I can sense the dryads in their trunks, the millions in this city, the whales off the coast, but I can’t,” his voice caught, “I can’t find my own son. I don’t know why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be kind to yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave a tight chuckle, “Sally. . .”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all my fault,” she said. The prelude to crying, the burning ache, came sudden in her throat. “It’s my fault, I mean how could it not be, he should have been with me, near me, I’m his </span>
  <em>
    <span>mother</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He slipped a hand along the expanse of her jaw and tilted her face skyward. His eyes were shining and wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let it leave, please, let that notion go. It is not your fault, it will never be your fault. You, everything about him—you raised a magnificent son. He is. . .Sally, you have no idea. It is not your fault.” He clenched his jaw. “It is mine. There is more I could have done, always. Always. But I’d already been favoring him. I thought, perhaps maintaining distance. . .It is my fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was going to dispute him, she knew it for certain, and they would go back and forth with one another until they grew too weary to continue. Until there was nothing to do but sit and wait for news that seemed to evade even the most knowledgeable. She made to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is no one’s fault,” Amphitrite said and they opened to her. She gave a tired smile, pressed a kiss to her lips and fixed a curl of his hair. “It’s no one’s fault but whichever moronic, poor fool that caused all this. It certainly isn’t your fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fool?” Sally asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, an immortal is behind this, clearly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, he’s told me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And for any immortal to be so confident in messing with this bloodline, they must be a fool.” Amphitrite held an expression on her face, one reserved but also sharp. Calm, but enraged. Sally couldn’t look away. “And if they don’t realize it, they will see themself as one by the time this is all finished.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trigger-happy,” he sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps,” Amphitrite said. It was then Sally noticed the floating cups of cocoa. She grabbed one from midair; it warmed her from the outside in. “Come, let’s keep walking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The apartment was hot, the heater practically rattling. They’re piled on the couch, his legs tangled with hers, her head in Amphitrite’s lap. She was almost asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Going to watch me again?” She didn’t need to open her eyes to know the goddess was smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your stories, your life. You.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poseidon traced wave after wave along her calf; she could breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s going to take a long time,” Amphitrite said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waiting gave you all the time in the world.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>in this house when we get sad we write our comfort fic. also more flashbacks! thank you to everyone reading, i'm so glad you all like this and it makes me so happy to be able to provide this piece of joy for you. have a lovely week xx</p><p> </p><p>kudos and comments highly appreciated</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>To admit the bitter truth, it might’ve been better had things taken a downward turn. One to many arguments. Someone walked away. Disruption. A loss of interest—but that didn’t happen. Quite the opposite, actually. Days passed, one slipping into another like a leaf along a quiet riverbank. She went to work, ran her errands, no matter where, they were there when she returned. Many mornings, her lunch was made for her, some nights, she’d make dinner for them. They took each other places, nooks and crannies of the city that she knew well, but could still surprise her. And it did, especially when a goddess makes a door appear in a once-empty brick wall.</p><p>It was perfect. Perfect. And she let herself be lulled by it.</p><p>.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>It all came to a halt one random weekday in the early morning. The sun had yet to rise and the barely-there light was not strong enough to dispel the harshest shadows in her room. So when she woke, cradled in warmth, reluctant to move, it took her a few moments to realize he was the gray figure at the edge of the bed.</p><p>He was sitting up, legs over the side, gaze focused into space. The imprint his body had left was cold. His name was on the tip of her tongue as she reached for him, but her voice disappeared when he grabbed her wrist and pressed it into the mattress. The grip wasn’t painful, not in the slightest, but firm, unmoving, steadying. As if he was trying to steady himself. Another hand joined theirs a second later and placed itself atop his.</p><p>Amphitrite said something in a language she couldn’t understand and a tone that worried her. When nothing changed, she tried again. “Poseidon,” her voice echoed against the walls; it made Sally’s skin prickle. It felt very much like she was trying to reach him although he was right there beside them. “<em> Go. </em>”</p><p>He glanced back, revealing in the dim light someone Sally hardly recognized. The only remaining trace of familiarity was the hard, flat green of his iris. He stood and left, pausing once more in the doorway and then dispersing into mist down the hall. She let out a breath. Amphitrite fell back, eyes closed, and rubbed the heel of her palm against her forehead. They looked at each other.</p><p>“Shall I explain?” she asked.</p><p>Sally nodded.</p><p> </p><p>The kitchen linoleum was cold underneath her bare feet. The shuffling racket in the hall and pass-by of cars down on the street told her the city was waking up.</p><p>“So, your Greek and Roman worlds have begun to collide, and that’s causing everyone to go haywire,” she said.</p><p>Amphitrite nodded.</p><p>“And no one’s sure why they’re starting to collide, but you’re fine because you’re not that large of a Roman deity.”</p><p>“Well, I wouldn’t hurt my ego that much, but yes, no one’s going around inducting the name of Salacia anytime soon,” Amphitrite said, but at the mention of the name her features flickered momentarily. Blonde, pearls in her hair, seaweed at her throat. Then it was gone. She pressed her temples. “Ugh.”</p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” she said, “He will be fine. There’s no need to worry.”</p><p>Sally gave a meek smile, “But I will.”</p><p>“Let’s do something fun,” Amphitrite said.</p><p>“Alright,” she said, “Let me use a sick day.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The something-fun in question was dress-up, Sally found out. Or rather, should have known. It only took so many trips down a couture-lined street to recognize a habit. The current store was one they’d been to before. Sleek, high-end, gold accents, thick-carpeted floors. A place she never thought to walk into and for a matter of fact, didn’t care to; it wasn’t worth dealing with the employees. Thankfully, the back rooms were quiet.</p><p>Amphitrite smoothed the sequined fabric down her figure, then slipped the zipper up, fingertips lingering at the hemline. “You look beautiful.”</p><p>“That’s what you said about the last two.”</p><p>“And it was true then, too.”</p><p>Sally turned to face her. “I think you two might have a problem with pretty things.”</p><p>Amphitrite made a point of staring, “No argument, there.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes.</p><p>“You set yourself up for that one,” Amphitrite said and ushered her into the sitting room, where a triple mirror sat. Low burgundy cushions were arranged in a circle. A gentle concerto filtered from the ceiling. Sally made a point to turn, slowly, and stare at the goddess through the reflection, who gave a low whistle. She stuck up the finger. “Ouch.”</p><p>“But really,” she tried. “I thought being immortal was supposed to make you wise. . .not value the material. . .Percy told me once about a game room, I believe. It sounded very important.”</p><p>Amphitrite sat on the little couch, “We do have an interest in visuals, I’ll admit to that. Poseidon has the house. . .I have my clothes.” Sally hummed and slipped onto Amphitrite’s lap without much ceremony. The goddess placed her hands on her hips like they belonged there, firm and steady. “We both love our weapons. . .accessories. . .” </p><p>She leaned in close, causing Amphitrite to trail off.  </p><p><em> Do you love me? </em> she wanted to ask. It wouldn’t be wise. Disastrous actually, but the question danced on the tip of her tongue, tickled her throat. The goddess was waiting, patiently, her all-knowing all-seeing sense of the world disrupted; <em> willingly.  </em></p><p>A butterfly fluttered in her mouth, wings brushing her back molars, fearful of the stomach it came from wanting to escape <em> out, out, out—do you love me? </em> she had to ask. Instead she pulled away. “Let me try on the other dress.” </p><p>Amphitrite gaped at her withdrawal.  “Rude.” She stood, arms crossed. Then her phone buzzed.</p><p>“You bring me to a high-end store with stuffy employees, you get bullied,” Sally joked, grabbing the garment on her way behind the curtain. She spared a quick glance towards the goddess, who was furiously typing at the screen. Gods texted. Who knew?</p><p>“Oh, none of these women would dare be stuffy with you, lest they be smited.”</p><p>Sally snorted. The small changing room felt duller without Amphitrite, despite all its trimmings. She slipped the dress off with ease. The next one though, was difficult; without her helper, the zipper stuck halfway up her back. Fitted, short, more velvet, a muted, baby blue that almost matched her eyes. She’d touched it in passing, but when they’d gotten to the back rooms, it had been there waiting. As if someone had been watching her every move. It could only have been Amphitrite—she was talking on the phone now, something about whale poachers and aquatic law. </p><p>Sally’s brows rose; she’d ask later.</p><p>Other voices filtered into the space; a man and woman. The latter more animated, almost ecstatic, over-pleasing.</p><p>She stared at herself, at the dress, and bit her lip. It was the perfect dress, she knew immediately. But these fancy things. . .they were unnecessary, vapid even. She chastised herself for even pondering it, considering the current state of things. She sighed heavy. </p><p>The voices grew closer. Amphitrite stopped talking.</p><p>“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she said. </p><p>“Huh?” Sally asked. Then, something happened that she never fathomed. Amphitrite panicked. </p><p>“Son of bitch, it is him,” she hissed. Sally fussed with her zipper.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” </p><p>“This cannot be happening!”</p><p>“Hold on, let me come out.”</p><p>“He’s coming back here. Fuck. I shouldn’t be here! He can see you, he can’t see me—he can see you, he can’t see me!” Amphitrite threw the curtain open, catching her by surprise. It was clear from her expression that the goddess was, for lack of a better word, freaking out.</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“<em> Go </em>,” Amphitrite squealed and pushed her into the front room, closing the curtains behind her and falling so quiet she may have disappeared altogether. There was no way to tell.</p><p>Sally was still fussing with her zipper when the voices arrived. One was the girl from the front counter, who was blushing from the neck up, and the other. . .</p><p>He must’ve been the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.</p><p>Tall, with an elegant physique; clearly athletic. Dark, close-cut curls and a deep tan, maybe even brown. His features were mesmerizing, unable to pinpoint, he had a face that left you wondering about him long after he’d gone. And he stood, in an eccentric, expensive suit, with the same confidence found among socialites. </p><p>But despite all the preconceived notions, he noticed her right away. Pulled off his sunglasses and stared her up and down, with a genuine pearly smile.</p><p>“Who’s this?”</p><p>The counter girl stared, as if just noticing that Sally was there, and her eyes searched the room. “Oh, wasn’t there, you were. . .” then she swallowed. “Terribly sorry, sir. She’s just a—” the girl swallowed again, eyes wide. A battle seemed to rage within her; a battle of choice and consequence. “Miss, can I get you anything? A drink? Another size?”</p><p>Sally blinked, “Um, no—”</p><p>“Great!” the girl yelled. “Come with me, sir, please. We have everything you’ve asked for. Several variations, multiple colors, the finest fabrics.”</p><p>The man brushed her off. “Bring it to the front. I hope you have the scarves. She was <em> adamant </em> about the scarves.” </p><p>“Yes, of course, so many scarves, we have so—” in her hurry, the girl bumped against a doorway and in doing so, produced dust. Shimmering dust. A cloud of it really.</p><p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p><p>The nature of the store and Amphitrite and the girl all fell into place.</p><p>The poor nymph murmured a curt apology and disappeared. The man remained; she gave him another once-over. Sleek and polished from head to toe, his suit was a deep blue, embellished with muted designs, and above his lapel sat a shining, gold pin half the size of her palm, of a lightning bolt.</p><p>She couldn’t help the small smile that graced her face.</p><p>“Wait,” he closed the distance between them, “You’re Sally Jackson, aren’t you?. This might be the highlight of my week. I apologize, you must be confused, my name is—”</p><p>“Ganymede,” she said. The smile she received was even wider than the one he’d started with.</p><p>“Yes, I am.” A pause. His eyes took in the room behind her; they flitted to and for like an erratic finch. “Well this is a surprise.”</p><p>She gave a tilt of the head, “Really?”</p><p>“You don’t seem the type for,” he gave a flush of the hand, “all this.”</p><p>Sally gave a short, stilted: “You don’t know a thing about me.”</p><p>“Oh, absolutely. Not a single thing,” he walked to the triple mirror to fidget with himself. Fixing perfect pieces. “Except you are Perseus’ mother and we know children are a reflection of what they’ve been taught.” He caught her eye in the mirror. “Compliments, by the way. And, of course, there’s Poseidon. He’s always had a preference for the down to earth types.”</p><p>He skirted the edges of the couch, hands in pockets, “And don’t take this the wrong way, but we must consider your station.” The air dropped off into a sudden tension. Her mood dipped.</p><p>“I have a job,” she said.</p><p>“I would expect nothing less from a hard worker such as yourself,” he said. “But this store isn’t necessarily for regulars.” </p><p>Sally stood silent, unable to comprehend the situation. It wasn’t the words he gave that startled her, but the shattered expectation she had made only a moment ago about the man who smiled at her. It didn’t make sense. “Would you believe I just realized?” And it was a true statement, it had only hit her as the nymph had hit the wall. </p><p>Ganymede walked back to her, coming closer than before. “Let me fix your dress.”</p><p>She obliged, though confused. He zipped up the back, adjusted the fabric, even fixed her hair. She quirked a brow, “Do this often?”</p><p>“Only when I’m asked,” he said. “I fix more ties than blouses.”</p><p>She gestured behind her, “And occasionally pick up the scarves.”</p><p>He choked and laughed, “So we’re both hurting each other now.”</p><p>“At least I didn’t start it.”</p><p>“Forgive me for the hot and cold, truly, but again I’m shocked,” he said. When she crossed her arms, he smiled and his face scrunched a little, as if trying not to laugh. “Because of you, of course, and your dress, and this obvious Olympian boutique, especially seeing as,” he pulled the heavy curtain beside them, too quickly for her to stop him, revealing a flushed-red goddess, hair and all, “this is Amphitrite’s favorite store.”</p><p>Lowering the hands that covered her face, Amphitrite managed her composure. She sat up straighter on the dressing room’s tiny corner stool, “Ganymede.”</p><p>“Amphitrite,” he nodded and his grin grew wider. “I happened to see Lord Poseidon today. Terrible migraine. Couldn’t leave the throne room.”</p><p>She hummed, “Been happening to everyone lately.”</p><p>“Funny enough, hadn’t seen him recently.”</p><p>She shrugged, “He’s been busy.”</p><p>“Haven’t seen you, either.”</p><p>“Coincidence.”</p><p>“I would suppose not,” he said. “Seeing as we’ve been ordered to keep to our domains and away from the mortal world.”</p><p>“As you’re doing right now?” </p><p>They smiled at each other for a beat too long, and then he let the curtain drop. Sally meant to look away, better to keep out of their devices, but Ganymede held her eye and gave a curt nod. “I must be going. I apologize for any undue stress and I did mean it, what I said, meeting you is a delight.” He moved back down the hall and she turned to watch, like the earth on its axle. He stopped near the throughway and turned back to study her. “I’m sorry as well, about Perseus. To have a son disappear so suddenly, it must be unbearable.”</p><p>Her fingers toyed with the neckline of the dress. “It is,” she said freely. There was no use in lying.</p><p>He tilted his head in sympathy, “Though it won’t help, I feel I must attempt to put your worries to rest. He is one of the best heroes I’ve seen and I’ve been around for most. Wherever he may be, I know he’s fine.”</p><p>Sally’s brows furrowed. </p><p>He slipped his sunglasses back down and spoke before she could say a thing, “That color suits you. You should wear it more often though I warn you others will question what team you’re playing for.” </p><p>She glanced down at the sky blue, body clumsy and delayed, though the words clicked instantly, “Oh, <em> haha </em>,” she said, though by that time he was gone and she too covered her face with delayed embarrassment. “Oh gods.”</p><p>Amphitrite emerged from the cubicle. “Is he gone?”</p><p>Sally turned on her with exasperation.</p><p>“Don’t be upset with me,” she pleaded. </p><p>She pushed past the goddess with fleeting irritation. </p><p> </p><p>The dress was left at the store.</p><p>.</p><p> </p><p>Later in the evening, they had retired back home. Winter was passing quickly but she’d always preferred the warmer weather and nothing could push her inside like a strong gust of wind. The full mug seared her palm. The blue cookies stared at her from the tin and she closed her eyes, hoping that wherever he was, he was warm.</p><p>“Tea?” she asked from the kitchen. Then waited a moment. Then walked to the archway and stared into the family room. “Amphitri—”</p><p>The goddess lay across the couch, shoulders propped by a pillow, and atop her was Poseidon, head against her chest, looking every bit as exhausted as Sally assumed he’d be. Amphitrite had a hand at the nape of his neck and stroked it rhythmically as the seconds ticked by.</p><p>“It was a nightmare,” he said.</p><p>Amphitrite hummed.</p><p>“Are gods even supposed to get migraines?” he whined.</p><p>“Maybe Apollo will come up with some godly form of Advil and name it after himself.”</p><p>Their embrace was sweet. She thought to leave them be but Amphitrite saw her and lifted a hand in invitation. Poseidon took heed.</p><p>“Sally,” he said. “Join us, please.”</p><p>“Let me slip into something more comfortable,” she said and made way for the bedroom.</p><p>“Lingerie?” Amphitrite asked.</p><p>“In your dreams,” Sally called back. The room was dark, but the light from the hall cast an outline against her bed, where a box lay at it’s base. A package she didn’t recognize. At the top was the logo of the store they’d visited earlier. She opened it in confusion.</p><p>It was the dress. And a note, on a slim card embossed with a golden symbol.</p><p>
  <em>My advice is rarely denied. I’m sure you misheard me. Ganymede. </em>
</p><p>She returned with both in hand.</p><p>“Is that a new dress?” Poseidon asked, sounding far too excited for something so simple that she laughed in defeat. Amphitrite gaped. Sally flashed the card and soon too did Poseidon. “That’s not—”</p><p>“It is,” Amphitrite thunked her head back against the couch arm.</p><p>“Will he tell?” he asked.</p><p>“I don’t think so,” she said.</p><p>“He was kind,” Sally sighed. “Despite the enjoyment in catching us.” This time they did not let her escape, ushering her close and pulling her down beside them. The couch was not made for this but it held them well. She was close enough to count the stubble of his beard, for the fading scent of her perfume to waft over her. </p><p>“He’s always kind,” he said. “As well as overly intelligent with a mind for drama.”</p><p>“Sounds like someone you’ve mentioned before,” she said and dropped her head against Amphitrite’s chest. Poseidon rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Yes, well it’s no surprise they’ve rarely fought over the course of a millennium.”</p><p>“He won’t say anything,” Amphitrite said. “I didn’t get the sense. He’ll enjoy the distraction, though. We’re all looking for one.”</p><p>“That’s right. You two have me,” Sally said and laughed at their objections. “I’m joking.”</p><p>Poseidon kissed her, “You will be the end of me.” He sagged against the back of the couch. “And to think I would get some rest here.”</p><p>“We can sleep,” Amphitrite offered.</p><p>“I’ve only just got here.”</p><p>“Usually when humans want to rest, we watch a movie,” Sally said. “And fall asleep halfway through.” Poseidon caught her eye and the look he gave her made her stomach do a tiny flip. It was melancholic at its core, though appreciative at the surface. Contemplative in the lips, sad in the eyes, happy at the creases. It’s as if he was pondering, but not about a movie. She tilted her head, but he nodded.</p><p>“Alright, let’s do that.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i've come bearing a longer chapter as an apology for the wait. again i'm trying to remind myself that this doesn't have to be perfect and if i ever want to write anything at all i need to let myself simply write whatever comes out first; not everything must be a picasso. thank you for reading! i hope everyone is doing well and keeping safe xx</p><p>kudos and comments highly appreciated</p><p>p.s. in awe this lil fic has reached over 1k views. you are all so so wonderful. thank you again</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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